


It's a Simple Question - writing prompt

by chaosfay



Series: Ghanima and Solas [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Memories, Mild Blood, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Personal Growth, remembering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3209246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaosfay/pseuds/chaosfay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ghanima has a scar on her face she hasn't spoken about.  Sera has been pestering her for weeks now, and won't give up until she knows the story.  It took Ghanima being drunk to get the story, but it leaves regret and a bitter taste in its wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Simple Question - writing prompt

**Author's Note:**

> Rape does NOT occur, but it was attempted. There aren't too many details regarding this, but enough that some may be uncomfortable. This event played a large role in who she is now, and I felt it was important to finally bring light to the darker part of her story.

“Let’s hear it.”  Sera sat down next to Ghanima in the Skyhold tavern, the majority of their companions present.  
  
“Hear what?” Ghanima quirked an eyebrow as she took another sip of the sweet wine.  It had, unfortunately, started taking effect even after eating.  
  
“The scar on your face!  It’s a story!” Sera spoke as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
Iron Bull may have half his face behind his large mug, but the stern look he gave Sera was hard to miss.  As per usual she ignored it.    
  
“I encountered humans who didn’t look kindly on my people.”  Ghanima’s voice had a tone of finality, as though that were all there was to say on the subject.  
  
“Oh, come out with it!” Sera kicked her feet up onto the table.  “That’s not the story!”  
  
Solas entered the tavern, seating himself next to Iron Bull.  Ghanima, as usual, looked perfectly calm, though she was starting to a little fuzzy around the edges with the wine working its way through her.  “I’m certain this is a tale she does not care to tell, Sera.  Perhaps we should respect that.”    
  
Iron Bull said nothing, but unlike those around him he was able to read Ghanima.  She made it difficult, he’ll admit that, but there was a enough to tell him she was uneasy about the topic.  “I’m with Solas on this one.”  
  
“Shite, not you too!  Don’t be so BORING!”  Sera’s irritation was as high as ever, especially now that everyone had made it clear they weren’t on her side.  
  
Sighing, “very well.  Short or long version?”  Ghanima was either too tired or too drunk to deal with Sera right now, and Bull couldn’t figure out which one happened to be the case.  
  
“You needn’t do this, Ghani.”  Solas’s expression was gentle, but his tone voiced his displeasure of her caving in like this.   
  
“She’ll never leave me alone about it.  We all know this.  You’ve heard her in camp when we’re not here.  Always about the scar.”  Ghanima touched her face where the scar started at the left side of her lips and moved up the side of her face. It was still deep and had healed poorly.  
  
“Damn right.  Now tell me the long version.”  
  
Ghanima quickly downed the rest of her wine before setting her cup down.  “I was 28 Summers.  My clan and I had just settled for the night, intending to remain for only a week or two.  Our scouts had seen no human settlements within miles of our location.”  She paused, her ocean blue eyes glazing over as her memories took her back.  “The Keeper had instructed me to take a few of the children and young women to a nearby pond to bathe the next morning.  Nothing new, simply routine.  The young women were more comfortable with another woman watching over them.  We had a scout with us, but she left us when we arrived at the pond.  I didn’t ask why; I simply assumed she saw easy prey for our evening meal.”    
  
Sera remained silent, but the expression on her face was no longer playful.  Iron Bull and Solas took some inner satisfaction at the visible discomfort, and guilt, Sera was displaying.  This was not the story the young woman had expected.  
  
“The lack of humans in the area provided us with greater ease, allowing for the girls to enjoy themselves instead of just taking a cold bath.  I even warmed the water for them.”  Ghanima smiled, “I didn’t do that very often; the risk of humans seeing the use of magic was always present.  We thought we were alone, and I felt the risk wasn’t there.  A warm bath is always welcomed, especially after traveling for a week without more than a cold stream to wash in.”  Her smile faded, “I shouldn’t have used the magic though.  The laughter of my charges drowned out what sounds I should have heard.  The scouts are silent, you don’t hear them until they announce their presence.  Humans, however, tend to be heavy footed.”    
  
Sera removed her feet from the table and looked into her empty cup.  Guilt was all over her face, and she refused to look at Ghanima.  She dared to look up a moment, but quickly found her cup more interesting than the anger on Solas’s face when he looked at her.  Iron Bull’s expression hit her harder, his mouth a straight line on his face, no laughter in his eyes.  
  
“The human men came at us from across the pond.  Thankfully I wasn’t too terribly distracted.  My charges wore only smalls or nothing at all, nearly all of them women and girls.  I quickly brought forth an icewall to provide them enough time to start running back to camp.  I remained behind to distract the men from going after the most vulnerable of us.”  Ghanima’s eyes were distant, her voice still and dangerously calm.  “The icewall provided the time needed to get a head start.  There were four men, all of them armed with blades.  That was one advantage I had.  No shields, and likely little training fighting mages.  I loosed fire on them, immediately setting two of them aflame with the explosion.  Their screams…I can still hear them.”  
  
Solas remained seated, his hands clenched together on the table, knuckles white.  His anger was carefully controlled, as always, but the urge to slap Sera was strong.  Bull placed a hand on his shoulder, bringing Solas down enough to find inner calm.  Sera was nearly writhing in her seat, looking the part of a child ready to run.  
  
“One had mind enough to fall into the pond, the other just ran around, screaming, before his lungs burned and he died.  The other two were more difficult.  They moved more quickly, making direct spells difficult.  I took to using my staff very quickly.  It was like a dance, but deadly.  I disarmed one of the men, knocking him with the force of my swing.  The other came up behind me while I had my attention focused on the other.  He stabbed me, but thankfully the small knife only entered my body cavity, hitting nothing other than pain.  The shot of it was enough for me to drop my staff.  He removed the knife and flipped me on my back.”  Ghanima closed her eyes a moment, collecting herself, but when she opened them tears were present.  “Like all mages I do not require a staff to cast my magic.  I do, however, require some use of my hands.  His friend had recovered enough to grab them after I sent ice into the other man’s face.  He straddled me, holding me down with his weight on my hips.  They laughed and said things I refuse to repeat.  I sent lightning through my hands, shocking the one of them just long enough to loose me.  I slapped the man holding me down.  I’m still uncertain about that being a good idea or not.”  
  
Bull’s hand was tight on Solas’s shoulder, preventing the elf from leaping up to comfort Ghanima.  She was too far into her memories to stop now.  They would only eat at her if she stopped now.  Sera would suffer for this later, more so than she is now.  The young woman’s guilt had brought tears to her own eyes, but she quickly wiped them away.  
  
“The shock on his face was momentary, but he recovered quickly and tore open my tunic.  I screamed, calling for help, calling to the scout who was supposed to be protecting us.  No one came; I was alone.  I was not, however, completely helpless.  I kicked him with my knee into his back, jolting him.  I clawed at him, tearing the flesh on his arms, his neck, and his face.  His friend grabbed my hands, putting them under what I can only assume was his leg.  My fingers had blood all over them, with human flesh beneath the nails.  The man was bleeding quite a lot at this point, but that only angered him.”  Ghanima was struggling to keep her composure, her voice shaking, and her hands held her cup tight, nails digging into the wood.   
  
Solas now understood why she didn’t clip them short. She filed them regularly, keeping them in good condition, never long enough to cause her problems.  They also served as weapons.  Bull had teased her a few times about keeping her nails pretty, but now knew full well he would never tease her about them again.  
  
“The blade sliced my face deep.  I could feel it cut through my lip, scrape my teeth, and it kept moving.  It was quick.  He told me he wanted me to see what they do to Dalish women who don’t know their place, that I would be desired by no one after they were through with me.  I would pay for the death of their friend, and the injuries they had all endured.  Over and over he told me it was my fault. Regardless of the pain I spat in his face.  I refused to cry, to beg, but I did scream and kept screaming.”  Ghanima took a deep breath, shaking as she exhaled.  “He was just starting to unfasten his belt when the arrow came through his throat.  He fell off me, grabbing for his throat as blood spilled from his mouth.  My hands were freed, his friend screaming about them only having some fun.  I hit him with ice, holding him in place as he was riddled with three arrows.”  
  
Bull noticed she voiced no pleasure about the men being killed.  She was calm, both body and voice.  Her eyes focused on nothing present, but tears were flowing freely.  The grip on Solas’s shoulder tightened as the man tried getting up from his seat.  She had to finish what she started, and without interruption.  
  
“I didn’t even look at who it was.  Instead I grabbed my staff and set the bodies to flaming.  The man in the pond had crawled out some time ago, but an arrow stood out from his skull.  I cast my strongest fire spells on them, wanting to leave nothing but ash.  When my rescuer touched me I knocked her back.  Rage filled me.  I had never been so angry, and nearly lost control of myself.  Perhaps the things I said were unkind, but she had endangered us when she wandered away.  One of the warriors and another archer ran up behind her, shock all over their faces.  I was quite the sight, I suppose.  My face was sliced up, blood on my hands, on the side of my face and over my ear from laying down now moving over my chin, neck, and now bare chest.  I picked up my staff and walked on my own back to camp.”  She clenched her jaw, her eyes now focused on the cup in her hands.  “Our scout was punished severely.  I could have been killed or worse, but instead I was left scarred.  The Keeper healed me as best he could, but he didn’t possess healing magic.  My wound was cleaned and stitched closed, and with assistance from one of the girls who had made it to camp with everyone else, I washed the blood off me.  I wouldn’t go near the pond, but the Keeper returned there with a couple of others to clean things up, make it appear as though nothing happened.”  
  
Sera had her legs drawn up to her chest, making herself appear as small as possible.   
  
“We moved on two days later, but my wound became infected and had to be reopened to drain the puss out.  Thankfully we had medicine to numb my face.  Rotted flesh had to be cut away.  It took a few days, and in that time the healer created a strong poultice to be used for my recovery.  The wound was finally healthy enough to be stitched close, but it didn’t fade.  The infection made that impossible with more of my skin having to be removed.” Ghanima touched the scar, moving her fingers over it as she remembered.  “It had the effect the man had desired, much to my dismay.  Firsts are discouraged from coupling because it may interfere with our duties, especially with the risk of a pregnancy.  At least, that’s the way it was with my clan.  Keepers never married, the First instead being adopted as their child.  Intimacy wasn’t unheard of, but I didn’t receive more than a hug or a chaste kiss unless we crossed paths with another clan.  My own didn’t want me, but I found company with others.  Few and far between, but they never grimaced when they saw me.  Perhaps the cause of the scar was the reason for being all but shunned by my own clan.”    
  
Bull relaxed his hold on Solas, but his hand remained.  Both focused their attention on Sera.  Ghanima slowly turned to face the girl, quiet anger in her eyes, “do you wish to ask anymore personal questions of which are not your business?  I have a few more, and seeing as memories are made fresh again I can provide you with details.”  Her voice held more authority in this moment than it had in the last week.  “Answer me.”  Ghanima’s cold tone brought Sera’s eyes up, face stained with tears.  “Do you want more, or is this enough.”  
  
“I’m sorry.  I didn’t know-”  
  
“No, you didn’t, nor did you have any right to know.  Next time you think you it’s a good idea to ask me personal questions be prepared for the answers.  I won’t be so kind next time.”    
  
Sera’s eyes widened.  If this was the gentle, kinder way of sharing this horrible memory she certainly didn’t want to know what the crueler way would be.  “I’m sorry.”  
  
“No, you’re not.  That is not an apology.  That’s you telling yourself you regret asking.  An apology is something else entirely.  Ask Bull about that; I’m sure he can teach you the difference.”  Looking to Solas, “I believe I may be drunk.  Would you mind helping me to my room?”  
  
Moving more slowly than he wanted to Solas made his way to her side, “Ghani, you didn’t need to share this this.”  They were outside in the cold mountain air, making slow progress to her room.  
  
“For once in your life please do not tell me what I need or don’t need.  This wasn’t about me.”  Her speech was slightly slurred, but she had her wits about her.  Though sharper of tongue and no kindness to her voice.    
  
“You did this for Sera,” his voice was quiet, soft, but it spoke the volumes of shock he felt.  
  
“Children need to learn, and Sera is every inch more child than she will ever admit.  Bull will teach her what an apology is.  I taught her to mind her own business.”  They stumbled up the stairs to the entry hall.  “I believe I may need more wine tonight.  I have no desire to dream.  Sometimes lessons are hard on both teacher and student.”  
  
Ghanima stopped when they entered the hall, “I’ll sit at the table while you fetch a bottle of whine.  If you don’t mind.”  
  
Solas eased her into one of the chairs by the hearth Varric had all but claimed as his own.  The dwarf, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen.  When Solas returned, a bottle of the sweetest wine in hand, he found her sleeping in the chair.  There was no peace over her face unlike most nights.  Tears had made their way down her cheeks in his absence.  Shaking her gently awake, “I have the wine.”  She moved slowly, even less steady now.  
  
“I would like to do nothing tomorrow.”  Her voice was slurring with sleep and drink, and she seemed capable of keeping only one eye open now.  
  
“That can be arranged.”  Solas kissed the top of her head as he opened the door leading to her room.  
  
“More stairs.”  Ghanima sagged next to him, feeling defeated by the very idea of moving up to her room.    
  
Without warning Solas handed her the bottle of wine and picked her up with ease.  Cradled in his arms, she rested her face against his chest, relaxing into him.  They were up and in her room within minutes.  He set her on the edge of the bed as she uncorked the bottle.  Between removing various items of clothing she took sips directly from the bottle.  Satisfied she was drunk enough (and not even a third of the way through the bottle) she set it aside.  In nothing but her smalls, Ghanima eased herself onto the bed and fell asleep quickly.  Solas resealed the bottle and joined her.  What the alcohol didn’t keep away in the Fade he would.


End file.
